


Aahmes

by nana_banana



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Ancient Egypt, Blindshipping, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gods, Hinted Violetshipping, M/M, Millennium Items, Minor Character(s), No Sex, One Shot, Puzzleshipping, au-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 13:05:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8534260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nana_banana/pseuds/nana_banana
Summary: A lonely king finds love, and the gods above are gracious enough to let him have it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday to me! 
> 
> Here we have a super self-indulgent fic I finished in August 2015, but neglected to post because I felt (still feel!) it was not that great. However, since it's my birthday today, I decided to not give a fck and post it because the USA has greatly disappointed me. Hopefully, this fic will help others who also feel let down by the USA.
> 
> Also, the beginning of this fic may seem very familiar to those who have read [Impromptu Royal Rendezvous](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3650610). That would be because this was _supposed to be IRR._
> 
> You heard that right. This is the original version of IRR. Hope y'all enjoy!

It was a particularly sweltering day, Ra was halfway through his journey across the sky and the palace was almost stifling with immense heat. Though he walked through the open corridor on the outside, shaded by the stone ceiling, the lack of cool winds made the heat all the more unbearable for a lonesome Pharaoh. His sweaty, dark, bronze skin glistened with the light of Ra reflecting off the stone floor, and under his _nemes_ , the roots of his flaming scarlet hair were drenched, golden bangs stuck to his forehead. The light footsteps echoed off the stone walls as the King of Khemet walked alone. His head was held high, kohl-rimmed, wine-colored eyes unwavering from his destination. His lips were set in their usual grim line, as though the man had heard one piece of bad news too many.

Distantly, he could hear the sounds of his servants going about their duties, guards calling to each other as they patrolled the grounds. He walked with purpose, ignoring the high temperature of the day. His steps were precise, powerful legs leading him closer to the assembly hall, arms swaying stiffly at his sides, in tandem with each step. Gold bands wrapped around his strong biceps and wrists, gold rings glinted on his fingers. An inverted, golden pyramid with the eye of Horus at its center hung from his neck where it bounced lightly on his bare chest.

A sudden gust of hot wind blew down the corridor, whipping underneath his head covering and blowing his yellow bangs out of place. The winds swept the long, scarlet cloak about his shoulders past him and the king took pause. The hot, swift breeze did nothing to cool his heated skin and the line of his lips became even grimmer. With brief acknowledgment, the man brushed the rustling cloth aside and resettled his long sun-colored bangs as the wind dispersed. With a heavy sigh, he continued on as though nothing had happened.

It was only after two more long, empty corridors that the regal man came upon another person. The king stopped before a tall man in blue priest robes, acknowledging him with a glance.

“My king,” the man murmured, bowing to the ground. He was a high priest, a guardian of a Millennium Item, the Rod which was tucked into into his priest robes, and also bore the second title of Vizier of Lower Khemet.

“Speak, Seto,” said Pharaoh, the coldness in his deep, rich voice rivaling the iciness in the priest's striking, blue eyes.

“Forgive my rudeness,” Seto said as he stood, gaze lowered to the floor, “but why are your guards not with you?”

“I had no need for them, so I sent them away,” replied the king, a hint of humor in his stiff tone. He looked at Seto, almost challengingly so, and the priest did not disappoint with his answer.

 _“Again?”_ Seto's formal persona vanished instantly, replaced by full-body exasperation. “Atemu, really, if you're attacked –”

“If I'm attacked,” interrupted Atemu, “I can defend myself.” He pointedly placed a hand on the hilt of the sword attached to his waist, the edge of his lips lifting momentarily in a cocky smirk. “Now, what of my orders?”

The humor left Atemu's face so quickly that Seto wondered if he had even seen it at all. Clearing his throat, he straightened his back.

“Everyone has been gathered. We only await your presence,” answered Seto.

Nodding, Pharaoh Atemu resumed his trek, and the priest hastily moved out of his way before following silently.

Once the pair reached the assembly room, the idle chatter cut off and the chamber muted of sound. Atemu surveyed his priests, the guardians of the sacred Millennium Items, as he stood in the entrance, violet-red eyes demanding respect. At once, the priests all bowed. Content, Atemu approached the throne before the large table the priests gathered around, taking in the placing of the figures upon the map of his kingdom and the outlying lands. He sat, and Seto came to stand at his side.

“Let's begin,” Pharaoh Atemu voiced, preparing himself for an intense meeting.

“Highness,” a tall woman with a golden necklace began, “I had a vision of the Atlantean army. They were approaching our borders, readying for attack. I believe it prudent...”

Pharaoh Atemu had stopped listening.

A spotted cat with banded legs raced into the room, leaping onto the table and settling itself among the various tactical figures. None of the priests made any move to relocate the cat, but that was not what had distracted Atemu. An extremely short young man raced into the room right after the cat, large plum-colored eyes sparkling with childish glee. His fluffy, raisin-purple hair bounced as he ran to the table, blonde bangs swishing side to side.

The teen giggled and pulled himself onto the table after the cat, oblivious to the people in the room. Again, no one made any move to dislodge the teen or even scold him, though several of the priests rolled their eyes at the inconvenience. The teen took the cat up into fawn, yellow-brown arms, knocking Atlantean soldier pieces aside carelessly, nothing more than stone pieces. He nuzzled the cat's soft fur, earning a loud purr for his affection.

Pharaoh Atemu looked upon the tender scene and leaned his chin onto his hand, perching his elbow on the armrest of his throne.

“What say you, honorable king?”

The teen finally seemed to realize that he was not in the room alone. He looked around at the priests, surprise evident on his rounded features. He sat back on his ankles, a brilliant smile overtaking his lips when his shining eyes fell upon Pharaoh Atemu.

Atemu gazed at him, his severe expression dissolving, his sharp eyes softening. A smile stole onto his lips, his mean expression completely absent as though it had never graced his face at all.

“My king?” said one.

“Majesty?” said another.

“My pharaoh, are you even _listening?”_ an unimportant extra asked.

Seto groaned when Atemu did not answer. He only continued to smile like a fool. Placing a hand over his face in irritation, Seto wanted nothing more than to shake him out of his stupor. The adoring grin on his face unsettled Seto far more than impending war. But he could not touch Atemu. If he dared, he would be risking Pharaoh's wrath and Seto rather liked his head attached to his body. He was partial to it, even.

The distraction with the cat shuffled off the table, bored with sitting still. He placed the cat on the floor and the cat hopped away, beginning a new game of chase. Atemu chuckled with amusement as the teen ran after it, his short legs trying their best to keep up with the quick feline.

“I don't think we're going to get anything done today,” the woman sighed as the teenager ran around her.

Most of the group murmured their assent.

“Atemu, please,” Seto most certainly did _not_ plead.

“Hm?” Atemu hummed inquisitively, still not bothering to look away from the playful teen who had captivated him so fully.

“Cousin, we're holding an emergency meeting, remember?” he pressed.

“Isn't he precious?” Atemu gazed adoringly at the teen who darted after the dodging cat.

“Yes, he's _amazing,”_ Seto said dismissively, “we know that already. What we would _like_ to know is what we're going to do about the Atlantean army that's darkening our doorstep.”

The cat leapt onto Atemu's lap then and the chasing teen followed soon after. He knelt beside Atemu, crossing his forearms on the throne.

“Hi, Atemu,” chirped the teen, his voice light and warm.

“Hello, Aahmes,” Atemu replied softly, reaching out to run a loving hand through the teen's deceptively-soft hair. The cat in his lap leapt away then, but Aahmes did not follow. He stayed at Atemu's feet, smile wide and happy.

“The day Bastet sent down Aahmes was a holy day indeed,” murmured a charmed Atemu.

Desperate for some form of progress, Seto turned to Aahmes who was currently being petted by the King of Khemet.

“Aahmes,” he called, and the young one cast a sweet smile in Seto's direction, “Aahmes, I believe you are distracting our leader from his duties.” Aahmes's smile fell away instantly, replaced by a saddened frown.

“I'm a distraction?” Aahmes asked and turned to Atemu who appeared alarmed at Aahmes's sudden change of demeanor. “Am I distracting you, Atemu?”

“What?” Atemu frowned. “Of course not, what idiot told you that?”

Seto bristled at the offense, but kept his face free from emotion as Aahmes pointed to him. He barely repressed a flinch when Pharaoh Atemu turned hard eyes onto him.

“You told Aahmes he was a distraction?” Atemu asked lowly. He was quiet and Seto soon realized that this was not a rhetorical question, so he nodded. At his gesture, Atemu's eyes narrowed to angry slits. “Tell me, Seto, has your head grown too heavy for your shoulders? I'd be only too glad to relieve you of its weight,” Atemu growled.

“Forgive me, my king, but as you may recall, we have an army closing in on our borders and no time for … other things,” Seto said as carefully as he could. His hand was on his golden rod for reassurance, though he knew it would do nothing to protect him. Atemu was far stronger than he, and as his cousin was the _king,_ Seto could not harm him. His hand trembled imperceptibly upon the metal.

“'Other things',” Atemu echoed Seto's words before abruptly standing. His hand went to the hilt of his sword, fingers slipping around the handle and clenching upon it. In that instant, a sudden hush smothered the room as Seto's life flashed before his mind's eye. Beside Atemu, Aahmes's eyes widened. “Care to elaborate?”

Seto did not dare move. He knew how fast Pharaoh was with his sword. He would not be able to take more than a step before his head was sent rolling. So Seto stayed where he was, tense and filled with fear he did not dare show his king. Should he show even a sliver of the terror embracing his insides, Atemu would not hesitate to get rid of him, family or not. As Atemu had said on more than one occasion, the kingdom had no need for _weakness._

“Well?” Atemu prompted, waiting as Seto struggled to think of something, anything that would save his neck from being severed. He gulped and Atemu's eyes narrowed. Seto's body chilled to the bone. He was so dead.

“Atemu, I'm hungry, aren't you hungry?”

The soft, bright voice of one Aahmes spoke up and Pharaoh Atemu hesitated before turning to see him looking up with a soft smile and shining violet eyes. Aahmes had situated himself on Atemu's throne as though it were another perch for him to use as he pleased. None in the room spoke and waited with bated breath for their king to react.

High Priest Seto watched as his cousin, Pharaoh Atemu of Upper and Lower Khemet, dissolved back into something more human. His infuriated features washed away and a smile pulled unwittingly at his lips. Atemu's tense shoulders relaxed and he sighed, his hand falling from the hilt of his sword.

“You're hungry, little one?” Atemu spoke gently. “Then we should get you something to eat, should we not?”

Aahmes nodded emphatically and Atemu chuckled. Extending a hand, Atemu cupped Aahmes's chin, tilting it up to see him more clearly.

“Then let's get you some food,” Atemu said to Aahmes before waving an uncaring hand to the room. “Dismissed,” he said, “we still have time.” He took Aahmes's hand into his own. “Come now, Aahmes,” he said kindly, “and let us see what the cooks have made.” Atemu led him from the room, and Seto watched them go with strained eyes. He blinked in surprise when Aahmes turned back to give him a reassuring smile.

It appeared that the small god was not as clueless as he seemed to be.

* * *

“What were you talking about earlier with the priests?” Aahmes asked with curiosity as he lounged on Atemu's lap. Aahmes was on his back, his head and arms hung over the armrest of the chair, feet tucked against the other. He lazed about as Pharaoh Atemu brushed his fingertips over his clothed belly. Atemu was idly playing with teasing fingers, his usual form of entertainment where Aahmes was concerned. Even as he enjoyed touching Aahmes, he was slightly annoyed by the linen covering his body. Had it been up to Atemu, Aahmes would not be wearing clothes at all. As it was, the only reason Aahmes was still clothed was because Aahmes did not wish to be without clothes. Whether it was godliness or his own will, Aahmes was as stubborn as a cat and tended to disappear when Atemu did not play his game. Long ago had Atemu stopped trying to coerce Aahmes into his bed. Though Atemu knew Aahmes held him in high esteem and exceedingly close to his heart, Aahmes was nothing if not incredibly obstinate. He did not like to be led anywhere against his will, even if his precious king was doing the leading.

So instead of trying to seduce or otherwise convince Aahmes into shedding his clothes or joining him in his bed, Atemu had to play the Game. He had to push tentatively at Aahmes's boundaries and dance to his tune. If Aahmes was in a particularly generous mood, Atemu was usually treated to a skin show. Unfortunately, Atemu had never gotten past partial nudity. His little god was a tease and a damn good one. Meanwhile, Atemu was dying of a permanent boner.

As it was, Aahmes did not seem particularly interested in doing much at all, preferring to lay, seemingly boneless, over his lap. _Just like a cat,_ Atemu thought. With the hand not currently rubbing Aahmes's belly, he reached for a grape from the bowl on the table and offered it to Aahmes who took it with a quick nip of his teeth, catching the tips of Atemu's fingers as he did so.

“Nothing you should concern yourself with, Aahmes,” Atemu finally replied as he took another grape off the stem. He pressed it to his lips, and Aahmes took that one as well.

“It sounded important,” Aahmes said after he had chewed the grape, “tell me?”

Pharaoh Atemu hummed and ran a reverent hand along Aahmes's clothed belly to his thigh. He stopped when he came upon the end of the tunic Aahmes wore and he flicked the edge of it, desiring nothing but to rip it from his body. His unoccupied hand took another grape and he fed that one to Aahmes like the other two, pleased when he happily ate it up.

“There is an army threatening my kingdom,” Pharaoh Atemu said as his fingers ran along the hem of the linen. Maybe today would be the day when Atemu finally got to touch Aahmes intimately. “The priestess, Isis, has seen the Atlantean army preparing for war against us.”

“...Do they want to hurt you?” Aahmes asked softly, and Atemu fed him yet another grape. If he continued to ply Aahmes with grapes and answers to his questions, he might hold still long enough for Atemu to get a hand on him.

“They will most definitely try,” Atemu murmured and slipped his hand underneath the cloth, his heart rate rising. He flattened his palm over Aahmes's leg and up to his thigh, caressing the soft skin. He was closer than he had ever been before. Today would be the day when he would bed Aahmes. He would fuck him right there on the dining table, the onlooking servants and guards be damned. When Aahmes fidgeted, Atemu fed him another grape. He moved his hand up to Aahmes's bare hip and Atemu's hungry gaze watched as the tunic slid up with his movement, revealing more fawn-colored skin. Gulping dryly, Atemu resisted the urge to wet his throat with the beer sitting on the table. He was close, so very close, and he refused to lose ground over such a trivial matter as a parched throat. Atemu smoothed his fingers over the sharp edge of Aahmes's hip and back down to the thigh. He was so close to revealing that very special place.

But Atemu's joy did not last. With a mental cry of anguish, Atemu lost his progress as Aahmes abruptly shifted to his side and the tunic slipped back down. Atemu frowned at the cloth, jaw clenched, and grabbed a grape. He made to feed it to Aahmes, but it was rejected by a turn of Aahmes's head as he spoke.

“I can get rid of them, if you want,” Aahmes said and his shining dark orbs gazed up at Atemu with beautiful emotion. As happy as it made him to see Aahmes looking at him that way, Atemu was a man on a mission. He listened to Aahmes's voice, but it was almost background noise as he once again slipped his hand underneath the tunic. “I can make them go away.”

Aahmes's voice broke through the lustful haze of his mind and Atemu's hand paused in its greedy pursuit. He looked down to Aahmes with a crease in his brow. The words registered in his head and Atemu tossed the grape aside, abandoning his lewd task to cup Aahmes's gorgeous face with both hands.

“You can do that, Aahmes?” he asked seriously.

“For you, I would,” Aahmes whispered. He sat up then, moving to straddle Atemu's lap and placing his palms on that bare chest. Absently, Aahmes noted the differences between his pale skin that did not burn in the light of Ra and Atemu's rich ochre that seemed even darker in comparison. Marveling at the colors of their skin tones, Aahmes hummed slightly before moving his hands up and over Atemu's shoulders. He interlocked his fingers behind Atemu's neck and settled there.

“Aahmes … what you're saying, it's … what about Bastet?” Atemu asked.

“Mom would understand … maybe,” Aahmes said simply with an undeterred shrug. “It doesn't matter because I'm not going to ask her permission. It's for you, the mighty king, and all I need is your word, Atemu. Do you want me to get rid of them?” He looked up at him and all Atemu saw in his precious eyes was innocence and adoration.

Smiling, Pharaoh Atemu tapped the tip of Aahmes's nose, earning himself a disgruntled look in return. He did not particularly believe that Aahmes had the power or the stomach to solve the problem Atlantis presented. His little Aahmes could not hurt a thing. There was no way he was serious. But Pharaoh Atemu would humor him. He rubbed their noses together, and Aahmes purred, pout disappearing for a pleased smile. When Aahmes's eyes slipped closed, Atemu sighed in contentment. There was nothing in the world that he could be tempted with to give up Aahmes. Atemu knew this well, for nothing could calm the rage in his soul like the being in his lap. Before Aahmes, Atemu had been a very angry man, ruling his land with an iron fist and a bitter soul. The shadows of the pyramid had slowly eaten at him, making him a miserable man … until Aahmes had appeared in his garden, playing with his hunting cats, three usually lazy and snappy cheetahs. His Aahmes was worth more than the world itself. However, if one were to ask him, he would adamantly deny it. A king could not posses such a weakness.

“As long as you don't get hurt, destroy them as much as you like,” Atemu chuckled, and Aahmes opened his eyes to gaze at him, measuring his words. It was then that Atemu noticed a change in Aahmes. There was something different there. Instead of the bright innocence and adoring look that usually graced his expression, there was an intelligence that Atemu had never seen before. It was as though he were looking at a completely different person with the answers of the universe in his eyes.

The countless ages shined in Aahmes's violet gaze, sharp and present, the look of a being that had lived uncounted centuries and seen far too much. For once in the entire time Atemu had known Aahmes, he resembled what he was, a _god._ Taken aback at the stark change of the teen in his lap, Atemu frowned. But before he could even begin to wonder what it was he was seeing in Aahmes's eyes, his face cleared, reverting back to his usual boyish countenance. Aahmes was quiet for a moment before he leaned in to peck at Atemu's lips.

“As you wish, Atemu,” he chirped brightly and then Aahmes disappeared in a flash of light.

Atemu stared at his empty lap for a long moment and he grimaced. With a frustrated groan, he wished he had not spoken at all. In that moment, he despaired, wanting Aahmes back on his person and preferably naked. He had been so incredibly close to getting what he had craved for so long, but then Atemu had opened his mouth and proceeded to shove his foot in it. He was already missing Aahmes's warmth. Sighing heavily, Atemu stood from the chair and his face slid back into his usual grim countenance. As he left the open room, he ordered a guard to fetch his council. While Aahmes was off playing and chasing cats, Atemu had a war to plan, troops to mobilize, and not a moment to waste.

* * *

After a day filled with urgent meetings, the King of Khemet looked forward to playing with Aahmes once more. He could not wait to continue their game, one that had been going on ever since he had first laid eyes on Aahmes. He promised himself he would succeed tonight if it was the last thing he did. But when he called Aahmes's name and bade the god come, Aahmes did not. At first, Atemu was not worried. It was not unusual for Aahmes to ignore a call when a particularly good game of chase was entertaining him. The small god rather enjoyed playing with the cats around the palace and Atemu thought it due to the goddess Bastet, who was Aahmes's mother and was said to have the head of a cat. Having never met her, Atemu did not know how much truth was in that statement. In any case, Atemu was slightly impatient and he did not wish to wait for Aahmes to grow tired. Picking up a platter of grapes one of his servants had left for him in his room, Atemu tried again.

“Aahmes,” Atemu called, turning in a slow circle about his bedroom chamber, “I've got a treat for you.” Grapes were Aahmes's second favorite treat. His first was figs, but Aahmes had already consumed all the ripe ones, and Atemu would not wait for the rest to ripen as well. “I'll feed them to you and rub your belly,” Atemu said with a grin, knowing Aahmes's weakness was a good belly rub. While it was not enough to get the god into his bed, belly rubs were key to getting Aahmes's finicky attention.

 _So much like a cat,_ Atemu thought with a smile.

But still, Aahmes did not come and Atemu's smile slipped off his face. Confusion filled him then and he set the platter down. It was not like Aahmes to ignore the temptation of both grapes and belly rubs. He always arrived in a quick flash of light, all grins and giggles, his hair in disarray and his face smudged with dirt. Then, with a snap of his fingers, Aahmes would be clean once more and gladly collapse onto Atemu's bed, ready for his treats.

“Aahmes,” Atemu called uncertainly, brow furrowed. He turned around again, looking around his room carefully. However, Aahmes was nowhere to be seen. It was possible that he was playing a new game with Atemu. But if he was, Atemu did not like it. Although, it did not feel like Aahmes was playing with him. If he were, Atemu would surely hear his muffled laughter. Gulping dryly, Atemu tried not to panic. “Aahmes, if you are playing with me, I am not amused,” he said firmly, “I do not wish to play. Come out from wherever you are hiding.”

Even then he did not show, and Atemu's heart sank in his chest. Aahmes never failed to show if Atemu declared he was not in the mood for games. He would always pop up with a pout on his face and begging to play. Atemu always found himself agreeing, if only to stop Aahmes from looking so sad. When faced with such a sorrowful expression, he always succumbed to Aahmes's desires. Atemu could not help himself. As much as he denied it to himself and to all who turned eyes upon him, Aahmes was the laughter in his heart and the happiness of his soul. He was the light of Atemu's nights and the warmth within his breast.

Knees suddenly weak, Atemu sat upon his bed, his chest tightening with an emotion he tried to cast aside. It was always there, always warring within him, furiously whispering Aahmes's name in his head. Yet Atemu refused to listen to it. He could not. Recognizing the feeling would make it too real, and Atemu could not afford for this feeling to be real. Heart in his throat, he brushed aside all of his worries and readied himself for bed. He did not bother to call for his servants, unwilling to let them see even a sliver of his faltering expression. Tucking himself into bed, Atemu closed his eyes and sighed heavily. If Aahmes did not show, there was only one explanation.

Aahmes had gone home.

* * *

It was seven days and nights before Atemu, Pharaoh of Upper and Lower Khemet saw Aahmes again. During that time, his somber mood had taken over the palace and not a one dared to smile in his presence for fear of his bitter reaction. Without Aahmes to calm Pharaoh's bloodlust, it was a free-for-all. No mistake was forgiven, no mishap went unpunished, and no soul was spared from his wrath. All knew that the young god had gone missing and that their king was pining in the worst way. What was more, Atemu refused to bring up Aahmes's name, and the one priest that had dared to ask had been thrown in prison. After that, none brought up the matter, too terrified of the repercussions, and Atemu gave no details. All were given only one order: alert the king upon Aahmes's return.

On the seventh night without Aahmes, Atemu was on his way to his chambers. He walked the halls with a dark cloud hanging over his head. His countenance was severe and his jaw was clenched. Servants paid him wide berth, scattering like bugs fleeing the light when Atemu was within sight. They prayed that Pharaoh would not call upon them and begged the gods for protection from their king's foul mood as well as for Aahmes's quick return.

So as soon as the palace staff heard the ominous swishing of a cloak and the clinking sound of gold jewelry, they raced for the safety of the dark, watching from the umbra as their king passed. They did not fear the shadows or the beasts that hid within them for Pharaoh Atemu was the ravenous monster that stalked the halls of the palace, looking for his next victim. Plenty of servants had already been dragged away to be whipped due to Pharaoh's quick, cutting anger, and none wished to be next.

This night, Pharaoh walked alone, the guards dismissed, much to their relief. It was apparent by the way Atemu scowled that he was, as usual, in no mood to put up with a single person more. His shoulders were tense and his violet-red eyes spat fire. Atemu briskly turned a corner, grimacing as he saw his servants fleeing down the next hall. He was glad they fled. He swore to behead the next sorry mortal to come to him with more “duties”. Atemu was tired and he wanted nothing more than to sleep.

He had endured meeting upon meeting over his army, provisions, tactical advantages, and so much else that his head was beginning to split at the seams with pain. No one had seen head or tail of Aahmes, and Pharaoh Atemu was beginning to think that Aahmes had left him forever. He was not particularly surprised as Aahmes was a god that could not stay long in Atemu's mortal realm. He had long known that Aahmes would one day go back to where he came from. Aahmes had told him he could not stay long, that he would leave to do whatever it was that gods needed to do to recharge – something Atemu had vehemently ignored as he had, in that moment, had no interest in Aahmes beyond bedding him.

Atemu was filled with regret.

He did not know when Aahmes would return or if he even would. His little god could be gone a day, a month, ten years, or perhaps a century when Atemu would be naught but a memory. But the knowledge did not make Aahmes's departure hurt any less. He had grown to care deeply for Aahmes and his absence felt like he was suddenly missing a limb. A limb he pretended had never existed, but a vital limb nonetheless. Atemu only wished he had had a chance to say goodbye. It made his heart hurt that he had not been able to properly part ways. That he was not given the chance to do so felt like an insult. He would never see his playful companion again and the least he deserved was a final farewell.

Clenching his fists at his sides, Atemu fought a wave of loneliness that tried to consume him. He paused in the silent corridor and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. The melancholy washed over him and tore through his heart, but he pushed it down. He did not need this weakness and he refused to let it interfere with his rule. He had a duty to his people, and a flimsy attachment to a god was a waste of his valuable time. When he felt sufficiently calm, Atemu continued on his way and eventually made it to his rooms without further incident. Immediately, he dismissed all servants, watching them scarper with bitter amusement.

He was not in any mood for their pawing hands upon his person, and with a pleased smirk, he could see that they did not wish to be near. Once he was certain they were gone, he entered his dark bedroom chamber, lit only by the glow of the night skies that poured in through the gap of the balcony curtains. His hands reached for the latch of the heavy collar around his neck. Unclasping it, he turned towards his bed, ready to collapse onto it, but his entire body stilled. The heavy jewelry slipped from his fingers and clattered to the ground as shock filtered into his system.

Almost like he had never left, he was there. All curled up on his bed and fast asleep, was Aahmes. He was on his side, knees pulled close, arms tucked against his chest. His blonde and dark curls were in disarray and his small breaths blew the stray hairs from his round face. For a moment, Atemu thought he was dreaming, but when Aahmes snorted softly, he tossed the thought. Aahmes was really there. Aahmes had come back to him.

Relief poured into Atemu's body like a relaxing tonic. He could breathe again and his soul no longer ached. Aahmes was with him once more. Overjoyed and with a lighter heart, Atemu approached the bed and sat, reaching out a hand to run it through Aahmes's soft and slightly dirty curls. Atemu frowned at that, but paid it no mind as Aahmes's return had made him too happy to care about much else. His heart squeezed in his chest and Atemu sent a thank you to the gods for returning Aahmes to him one more time. He swore he would make an extra offering to them in the morning to express his deepest gratitude.

Aahmes purred in his sleep with his touch and Atemu smiled before he stood to remove the rest of his jewelry and his clothes. He stood for a long moment, watching Aahmes sleep, before slipping in beside him and pulling Aahmes into his arms. Thankfully, he did not wake and Atemu closed his eyes, releasing the tension from the past week. For the first time since Aahmes had disappeared, Atemu's heart rested easy.

* * *

When morning came, Pharaoh Atemu woke to warmth and purrs. Lazily, he opened his eyes and before him, was Aahmes, watching him with his sweet, violet gaze. Lips twitching into a smile, Atemu let his gaze settle on Aahmes's lovely visage. At the thought of Aahmes, his heart warmed with relief and another feeling he refused to acknowledge that made his heart thud in his chest. It took only moments before he realized what he was looking at. The smile immediately slipped off his face. In the dark of the night, he had not noticed it. He had ignored it, even. Atemu had been so glad to have Aahmes back that he had not paid attention to anything else. Pharaoh Atemu sat up in alarm and gazed down in horror at Aahmes as he lay, covered in dried blood, rubble, and dirt.

“I missed you, Atemu,” chirped Aahmes, unaware of Atemu's mood.

“A-Aahmes,” Atemu said, “you're covered in blood!”

Puzzled, Aahmes blinked and sat up, looking down at his ripped and dirty clothing. He took in the smudges of dirt and blood over his person and ran a hand through his hair thoughtfully. He hummed and nodded.

“I am,” he said, pulling at the very tunic Atemu had been trying to will off seven days before. Aahmes fingered one of the several holes in it with curiosity.

“Are you hurt, Aahmes?” Heart in his throat, Atemu searched with his eyes, looking for injuries, but he could find none.

“It's not _my_ blood, silly,” Aahmes said with a slight laugh and Atemu felt his alarm increase.

“Then what happened to you?” Atemu interrogated, his voice forceful with unchecked apprehension. “Why are you like this?”

Looking at Atemu with confusion, Aahmes tilted his head to the side.

“I did as you said,” Aahmes said quietly, unsure. “I took care of your problem.” A meek expression took over Aahmes, but it seemed so very out of place among the blood.

“My problem?” Atemu said, aghast, “What problem?”

Aahmes grimaced as he ran careful hands through his hair, trying to untangle it.

“Don't you remember?” Aahmes asked him. “You said that army wanted to hurt you. You told me to get rid of them, so I did.”

Disbelief crossed Atemu's features and he shook his head.

“You took care of the entire Atlantean army?” he asked doubtfully, and a sudden image of a mangled animal entered his head. Somewhere, out there, could be a dead animal Aahmes had eviscerated. But he quickly cleared the thought. He did not believe Aahmes capable of it. “Aahmes, what did you really do?”

Aahmes shook his head.

“No, not the entire army,” he admitted and Atemu nodded. He did not believe for a second that Aahmes could do such a thing. Aahmes was too sweet, too kind and gentle. He was far too innocent –

“I got rid of Atlantis,” Aahmes said cheerfully.

“You _what_ –” Atemu breathed.

“Pharaoh! Pharaoh Atemu!” The shouts rang down the hall.

Cut from his thoughts, Atemu looked around as both Priest Seto and the blonde general of his army burst into his chambers and threw themselves onto the ground into identical bows. Distracted from Aahmes, Atemu scowled at the pair. That they had dared enter his chambers without his say made him angry, and it offended his very name. He would have them beheaded just as soon as he got the reason for their reckless intrusion.

“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded, and Seto raised his head only slightly to speak.

“Cousin,” and the lack of Atemu's royal name told him that it was dire news indeed, “two scouts have returned with news. As of seven days ago, Atlantis is under attack!”

“Not anymore!” chirped Aahmes, and Seto's head lifted only for his mouth to fall into a gape at the sight of him, undoubtedly surprised to see Aahmes and even more shocked at the ragged state of him. The general lifted his head cautiously and his mouth also fell open in horror. “I missed Atemu too much, so I finished quickly, but mom kind of got mad at me and yelled at me for _so long._ She only let me go last night and I came back right away. I was so tired that I didn't have a chance to clean up.”

With a loud yawn, Aahmes stretched his muscles and dropped himself to lay across a shocked Atemu's naked lap. Aside from the terrible state of him, Aahmes was his regular self, a cat in every attitude.

“I'm still tired,” Aahmes said with another yawn and closed his eyes, intending to sleep, but Atemu would not have it. He brushed Aahmes's blonde bangs aside, slipping his hand underneath his neck before lifting his head. Opening his eyes, Aahmes pouted at him, displeased at being kept awake against his will.

“Aahmes, what exactly did you do with Atlantis?” Atemu asked seriously, and Aahmes groaned petulantly. He turned his head slightly and nipped at Atemu's wrist to express his annoyance, though there was no strength behind it.

“I told you already, Atemu,” Aahmes whined. “You said to destroy them and I did. They're gone and they won't hurt you now. Please let me sleep, I'm really tired.” Grumbling, Aahmes curled his body against Atemu, tucking his face into Atemu's bare hip. Pharaoh Atemu stared down at the small, innocent teen covered in blood and smudged in dirt. And for the first time since he had met Aahmes, Atemu felt fear.

“...Your orders, my king?” Seto asked and Atemu looked to him, gritting his teeth. He would not show his fear. He could not show such weakness before his subjects. If they saw anything, he would behead them himself.

“Until the other scouts return with confirmation, we continue as though Atlantis still stands,” said Atemu in his firm voice before waving a regal hand. “Go.”

Bowing deeply, Seto and the blonde general stood and left the room. When they were gone, Atemu finally let out a ragged breath and looked down to Aahmes who was fast asleep in his lap. Aahmes was harmless, Atemu knew that well. He had never committed a single vile act during his stay with Atemu and there had never been a foul word said against him. Pharaoh Atemu did not want to believe that Aahmes had destroyed an entire civilization. The thought was ludicrous. Aahmes was innocent, gentle, and kind. He was simply incapable of committing atrocities such as that. Unlike his brethren, Aahmes abhorred violence and made a point of distracting Pharaoh Atemu when he felt particularly vengeful. He had long ago realized what Aahmes was doing, manipulating him, but that had not made Aahmes's attempts any less successful. So to believe that Aahmes had hurt a living thing was practically impossible for Atemu.

But as Pharaoh Atemu gazed down at Aahmes, covered in blood with his tunic torn and shredded, he could not deny that something horrible had happened. He ran his fingers over one of Aahmes's blood-drenched locks and his hand visibly trembled. Clenching his fingers, Atemu forced his hand to be steady and dropped it to the bed. Looking down at Aahmes's young face, he dared not move him, though his legs were beginning to fall asleep. For once in his life, Atemu did not know what to do. He had a lap full of apparent danger and he was not sure if that danger would be a threat to his kingdom or himself. But one thing was very evident to Pharaoh Atemu: Aahmes was not all that he seemed.

* * *

When Aahmes awoke, it was to the sight of a very weary-looking Atemu. Stretching, he worked the kinks out of his joints before settling his shining eyes onto him. Eyes that, at any other time, would have captivated him. But if the way Atemu's lips thinned was any indication, there was something amiss.

“Are you avoiding your duties again, Atemu?” Aahmes asked playfully.

Clearing his throat, Atemu looked down to Aahmes with wariness in his eyes, though he hid it with a tense smile.

“Aahmes, you're awake,” said Atemu in his familiar deep voice and Aahmes yawned, stretching his body once more before nodding.

“I am,” he responded and sat up, looking at him closely. Atemu's eyes avoided his and Aahmes frowned. This was not the usual Atemu that greeted him after his naps. “Have I upset you?” he asked, and Atemu's violet-red gaze widened.

“No, of course not, Aahmes, why would you think that?” Atemu said and his false smile grew. Something within Aahmes twinged with hurt and uneasiness settled within his heart. Atemu placed a hand to Aahmes's cheek as he usually did, but he felt the hesitance in Atemu's fingers. Aahmes dropped his gaze to Atemu's chest and he bit at his lip, his heart squeezing with melancholy. Before Atemu could continue to lie to him, Aahmes threw his arms around Atemu's neck and held him close. He felt Atemu stiffen with his touch, and his heart sank.

“Do you fear me, Atemu?” Aahmes whispered and Atemu tensed even more within his arms. “Do not lie to me,” he whispered and nuzzled Atemu's neck, “I am a god. I can tell when you're lying, remember?” Aahmes moved away slightly to look at Atemu, watching as he took a deep breath before meeting his gaze.

“If what you say of Atlantis is true, little one,” Atemu said and hope flared within Aahmes at the pet name. If Atemu was still using it, it meant he still cared for him. “If it is indeed the truth, I am concerned about you.” Atemu kept his gaze steady, and Aahmes frowned at him. He did not understand. He had helped Atemu and protected him, yet he was only eyed with suspicion. It hurt and Aahmes's hands clenched minutely as his heart began to race. “I do not know if I can trust you,” Atemu whispered.

It was then that Aahmes's flawless persona wavered.

“I did it for you,” Aahmes said in a very small voice. “...They were going to hurt you. I couldn't let them hurt you.” Soft hands cupped Atemu's cheeks and Aahmes's violet eyes watered. Something like guilt and alarm clenched Atemu's heart in a fierce grip at the sight. “Atemu, I love you,” Aahmes whispered, “I'd do anything to protect y-you.” His voice wavered before it broke and the tears spilled from his eyes. They ran down his cheeks and Atemu's mouth parted in surprise. “You hide your heart from me,” Aahmes said tearfully, “you always have, but I never pretended to own mine. You said they would hurt you. I only needed your word – I made them go away. I hurt people, I – I k-killed –”

Every inch of Aahmes's godly countenance vanished and all Atemu saw then was a fragile being, haunted by memories. Aahmes pulled his arms from Atemu's neck, fists going to his eyes, to wipe at his tears as he held back a sob. It was then that something inside of Atemu faltered. It felt like his heart. It felt like giving in. Like something within him shattered at the very sight of Aahmes crying. Unable to stand it, Atemu reached out and yanked him close, tossing his feelings of fear and skepticism aside.

“Aahmes, do not cry,” Atemu whispered, and his heart ached with the sound of Aahmes's gasping sobs, “forgive me. I did not know what I was thinking. I hurt you, I'm sorry.” His heart clenched as Aahmes whimpered and Atemu's words stumbled from his lips with desperation. “Aahmes, I love you,” he whispered, “please do not cry. It hurts me to see you cry.”

But Aahmes abruptly moved away to stare at him with wide eyes, and Atemu was glad to see the tears had stopped, even if only by pure shock. Aahmes blinked at him in disbelief, his head tilting to the side, eyes wide, the whites irritated to a faint red.

“You love me?” Aahmes breathed, and Atemu stilled. His heart skipped a beat and his gut clenched with dread. Burgundy eyes wide, he shook his head minutely.

“No, I didn't say that,” Atemu denied, though his entire body had gone numb, “you misheard me.”

A bright smile split Aahmes's face and he chuckled with fast-spreading relief, wiping at his face with the back of his hand. He said, “Yes, you do. I heard you. You said you love me!” Aahmes threw himself into Atemu's arms then, laughing and joyful, knocking them both back onto the bed and the wind out of Atemu. “You finally said it,” he said, “you _said_ it.”

“...So I did,” Atemu murmured after a long moment of silence and wrapped his arms around Aahmes, the god he had come to love. Atemu had not meant to fall in love with Aahmes. It had only happened and he had been denying it for so long. There was no hiding it now. His heart practically beat Aahmes's name, a steady rhythm of devoted love. For so long, his very soul knew only Aahmes, _yearned_ for him, and there was no other that would take his place. The thought scared Atemu because the only thing left for him was heartbreak. As a god, Aahmes could not stay on his plane of existence and would undoubtedly outlive him. Though Atemu loved him, Aahmes could not stay with him. Aahmes had to go.

* * *

The next day, the rest of the scouts arrived with confirmation of Atlantis's fate. The kingdom had been utterly destroyed by fire, reduced to rubble, and sent to the bottom of the sea in one night. Atemu could scarcely believe it. His supposedly harmless, little god had taken down an entire kingdom.

Towards his left, Atemu could see Seto out of the corner of his eye, waiting for his next command. He stood tall and imposing, with his ax-like golden item in hand, held close against him. A little ways beyond him were the rest of the High Priests, Guardians of the Millennium Items. Towards Atemu's right, was his blonde general, looking quite preoccupied with his brow furrowed and his brown eyes squinted in thought. And before Atemu, were the scouts, bowing with their foreheads pressed against the dusty floor, awaiting their dismissal after a full report. The usual entourage of courtiers, nobles, scribes, and priests that occupied the room were absent from the private meeting Atemu had convened.

Gritting his teeth, Atemu flicked a hand at Seto.

“Speak of this to no one,” Seto said then. “Dismissed.”

As the scouts departed, Pharaoh Atemu leaned back in his throne, his lips thin as his general paced to the space the scouts had previously occupied. The man bowed low, clearing his throat as he looked up at Atemu's feet. Atemu waved a hand at Seto.

“Speak,” Seto said to the general.

“Are we safe from the god's wrath, your majesty?” was his general's question, and it irked at Atemu. Because if he told the truth, it would be that he did not know for sure. His people would panic if he revealed such and his kingdom would surely descend into chaos. It was for the best of all if Atemu stood tall and certain, even if it was a lie.

“We are,” Atemu said firmly and he noted the breaths of relief his priests let out in quick succession. He also saw the flicker of his general's brown eyes, as they looked to Seto, a small smile pulling at his lips before he forced it down. It was brief and it was strange. Atemu turned his eyes to Seto, surprised when he saw that his vizier was not looking at him, but at his general. Even more puzzling was the hint of a smile that Seto tried to hide.

Befuddled, Atemu looked between them before deciding that he had much more important things to think about than his cousin and his general. Standing, Atemu gained the attention of the entire room.

“Seto,” he said, “take care of the rest.”

Before his priests could even finish bowing, Atemu swept from the room, the four guards waiting just outside the door saluting and following quickly after him. As deep in thought as he was, Atemu did not think to dismiss them. He was far too busy absorbing the news his scouts had brought him. His little pet, the all-powerful god, Aahmes, was not as innocent as he had previously thought. An entire civilization had been struck down in a single night. If Aahmes had the power to do that – he took hold of the golden pyramid at his chest, his brown fingers clenching upon it – he worried at what else his little god could do, and if he even had at all power to stop him.

It was not long before Atemu reached his rooms and his guards opened the door for him. It shut firmly behind him as he made his way through his personal chambers, dismissing every single servant in sight all the way to his bedroom. When he reached said room, he instantly spotted Aahmes on his bed, idly playing with a cat. The god was flat on his back, lazily batting at the large feline that was trying to capture his fingers within its paws. The cheetah growled in annoyance when Aahmes's hand escaped him, and Aahmes laughed.

On any other day, Atemu would have melted on the spot at such a sight. Today, he simply watched Aahmes and the yellow, spotted cat play, thankful that the god had deemed it worthwhile to clean himself up. Gone was the blood and tattered clothing, replaced by the same sweet Aahmes Atemu had known for the past year. Only, Atemu was no longer sure if he was the same Aahmes. His Aahmes did not have evil inside of him. The Aahmes he knew could not hurt a single being.

“Stop thinking about it,” Aahmes said with a pout from where he lay. “You're doing that face again. The one that makes me feel like a stranger.” He rolled over on the bed, turning his gorgeous, violet eyes upon him. His blonde bangs and violet hair flopped over his forehead and fell about his head in precious curls in a way that would usually cause Atemu's heart to leap in his chest. However, he only felt apprehensive. Had he not just had an extensive meeting with the scouts about Aahmes and the damage he had wreaked, Atemu would not have believed him capable of destruction. But Aahmes had indeed swept Atlantis aside like it had been naught but a speck of dirt. The teenager Atemu had been treating as some sort of pet was a frightening and mighty god, indeed. But even with the confirmation and the evidence staring him in the face, Atemu still had a hard time wrapping his head around it.

Removing the millennium puzzle from his neck, Atemu placed it on the stool next to his bed and sighed. The large cat leapt from the bed then, and Atemu recognized her as his most vicious hunting cat. He watched her go before he looked to Aahmes, who was watching him with those beautiful eyes he so adored.

“You will forgive me if I'm reluctant to accept that such a kind being like you actually took down an entire civilization,” Atemu said, and Aahmes groaned, flipping onto his back with a huff.

“This is why I never reveal my true powers to you mortals,” Aahmes sighed carelessly, “you get frightened so easily –”

“Easily frightened mortal?” Atemu said sharply. “Is that what you really think of me? I am king of this land, Aahmes. I look out for my people. That is my duty. When a god decides to use us as his playthings...” He trailed off, turning away from the god. “You're not the sweet oblivious Aahmes I thought you were. You've been acting – _lying_ to me. You've made a fool of me –”

“You're _wrong,”_ Aahmes said, his nonchalance instantly dropping, and he turned, pushing himself up with his hands. Aahmes looked imploringly to him, but Atemu did not turn to look. “I haven't tricked you or anything like that,” Aahmes said softly, “I didn't show you my true powers, but that doesn't matter. This is who I am. You know me, Atemu – please _look at me!”_

Turning, Atemu fixed a betrayed gaze on Aahmes.

“You massacred an entire civilization,” he said lowly.

“A year ago,” Aahmes said, “you wouldn't have cared.”

“But I _do_ care!” Atemu suddenly shouted, hands clenched at his sides and trembling with anger. “You _made_ me care! I didn't give a damn before I met you, but ever since you got here, you've taught me nothing but compassion. You _stayed_ my hand – something I didn't need!” He cut himself off, turning and abruptly upending a table with platters of fruit and cups of beer. Dates, pomegranates, and grapes scattered across the floor, clay vases of beer shattering and golden cups clanging, their liquid and chunks sloshing over the fruit and quickly spreading. The doors to his bedroom opened, and Atemu cast a glower to the entrance to see his guards about to race in. “Leave!” he shouted, watching as they quickly obeyed, the doors snapping shut behind them. Atemu panted, his chest heaving as he looked back to Aahmes, but the anger quickly dissipated from his expression and his heart clenched in his chest. Once again, there were tears in those violet eyes. Gritting his teeth, Atemu wanted nothing more than to turn away. But Aahmes's tears were a formidable foe that Atemu could never defeat.

“I am a god,” Aahmes said quietly. “Death doesn't mean the same thing to me as it does to you. There is an afterlife – their souls live on –”

“You were heartless,” Atemu interrupted, “you sent the entirety of Atlantis into the ocean.”

“You _know_ me,” Aahmes whispered, “I haven't changed. I'm still your Aahmes and I-I care very much about what I did to all those people, regardless of where their souls went.” Aahmes shook his head, as though clearing the images from his mind. He closed his eyes, breathing shallowly before he opened them and Atemu saw something new there. It was horror. “Don't think I'm some heartless, vengeful god, Atemu,” Aahmes whispered, “please … never think it of me. They were going to hurt you. I'd do it again … for you.” Moving, Aahmes sat back onto his heels. He sniffed and wiped at his face. “Please believe me,” Aahmes said, voice wavering, “or it would have all been for nothing … and their terrified faces will be imprinted into my mind forever.” There was no response from Atemu. Aahmes looked up, meeting his gaze with hope, but it crumbled when Atemu looked away.

“In the beginning,” he said, “I tried to keep my heart hidden like my mom told me to. I just wanted to make some friends, have fun, and hang around in your world for a little while, but your world is so wonderful, and then I met you … and now I think I should have listened to my mom. Falling in love with humans is messy and –” A hand to his lips stopped the rest of Aahmes's words. Atemu looked down at him with a pained grimace as he moved onto the bed, kneeling adjacent to him.

“I believe you,” Atemu whispered and Aahmes frowned, unable to comprehend.

“Then why are you so upset?” Aahmes asked, “Why treat me like a stranger?”

“It's easier,” Atemu said and Aahmes stared at him.

“Easier?” he breathed, “I don't understand.”

“Aahmes, do you really not comprehend why I'm so upset by this?” Atemu asked. When Aahmes gazed at him blankly, Atemu's lips formed a grim line of displeasure. “When I thought you harmless, you were just Aahmes, a boy who liked to play games and chase cats. You were a boy who made the loneliness in my heart disappear. Now that I know the extent of your powers, you're no longer just my companion.” Atemu brushed the golden bangs from Aahmes's forehead, smiling reluctantly when they fell back across his face. Sadness filled his heart and he sighed.

“You're a god who does not belong in my world,” he said quietly, “and when you leave … you will be leaving me _alone_ and I do not know … I don't...” He trailed off, brow creased as he gathered his thoughts. “You were gone only seven days and everything was bleak,” he breathed, “you've made me admit my love for you, Aahmes. Must you make me admit that I cannot live without you as well?”

Aahmes pushed forward onto his knees then and his brow creased.

“You think I'll leave you,” he said disbelievingly, and Atemu turned his face away. He did not want Aahmes to see the pain he felt at the thought. “Atemu,” Aahmes called, “please look at me.” He took Atemu's face into his hands and their eyes met. With a furrowed brow, Aahmes sighed. He said, “I will not leave you.”

Pulling Aahmes's hands from his face, Atemu lowered his gaze as he chewed the inside of his cheek.

“You don't belong here, Aahmes,” he said bitterly.

“Don't you understand, silly king?” Aahmes said jokingly, but his expression was torn with sadness and misery.

“I understand perfectly well,” Atemu gritted out, “I understand that you are a god and I am but a mere mortal playing at godliness – I understand that your place is with the divine and mine … mine is without you.” With a brave facade, Atemu shrugged his shoulders. “I understand that we do not belong together,” he said.

“Silly man,” Aahmes murmured, reaching up and touching Atemu's lips, “you do not understand at all.”

“Understand what exactly?” Atemu questioned softly.

“That I belong with _you,”_ Aahmes said stubbornly, “that I love you and I will stay with you. I will find a way.”

But Atemu shook his head and pulled Aahmes to him. He was surprised when Aahmes went willingly and pliant as he never had before, settling into his lap like a child in need of affection. Holding him tightly, Atemu pressed a kiss to his temple. He refused to continue the conversation. Unless Aahmes gave up his godliness and eternity, he could not stay with him. And Aahmes would not give that up, Atemu did not believe it for a second.

“Let's not speak of sad things, my love,” he said, “let there only be happiness between us.” Atemu felt the reluctance to drop the subject in the way Aahmes's shoulders tightened. Yet Aahmes fell quiet and he pulled away to look up at Atemu with glimmering eyes that shined like precious stones. They made Atemu's heart ache and his stomach clench with anxiety. He did not want to ever be away from Aahmes. He did not want to go a single day without seeing this precious being. So for the first time, Atemu brushed aside all inhibitions and kissed Aahmes.

The feel of Aahmes's lips against his own was indescribable. The tightness in Atemu's chest increased until it was painful to breathe. Aahmes wrapped his arms around Atemu's shoulders and moved into him, moving their lips together with a tremble Atemu felt all the way to his heart.

But then, as quick as it had come, the beautiful feeling was gone and Atemu opened his eyes, unsure of when he had closed them. There was no god in his lap. Glancing around, Atemu's hands clenched and despair hit him like a rogue shadow beast.

“Aahmes?” he called as panic began to build inside him, “Aahmes!” He stood from the bed, his heart racing. “This is no time for practical jokes!” But Aahmes did not appear and Atemu felt his world collapse around him as the certainty settled into his gut. He knew then to his very bones that it was no prank. Aahmes did not come because he _could_ not. Atemu fought uselessly against the tears that built up in his eyes. They spilled forth in rivers of anguish, tightening its grip on his very soul. “Aahmes,” he whispered. Squeezing his eyes shut, Atemu, King of all Khemet, lowered his head and sat on his bed in defeat. Aahmes was gone.

* * *

Three months later, Pharaoh Atemu walked the halls of his palace alone at midday. Expression set, grim and stone-like, he made his way down hall after hall. His footsteps were heavy and his shoulders tight with tension. There were no servants or guards in sight. Not a single priest or council member crossed his path. The hot corridors were silent but for the muted sounds of the flames lighting his way. In no time at all, he reached the throne room and the two guards saluted him immediately. The two servants at their sides leapt into action and pulled the door open for him. They bowed him inside and Atemu vaguely heard his arrival announced within.

Without preamble, he walked in and instantly took a seat on his throne. The coolness of the seat was a mercy on his heated body and he sighed silently before settling in stiffly. The cool night would be a blessing on his skin when it came, but in the meantime, Atemu would endure. Looking up, his face darkened at the sight of his court. They watched him with apprehension in their eyes, the lords and ladies of his kingdom turning to whisper in nearby ears. Priest Seto approached with hesitance, a scroll within his grip and Atemu held up a hand to stall him.

“Where is my vizier with news of Upper Khemet?” Atemu asked, his voice low and commanding, and the whispers ceased at once. “Summon him.”

“Pharaoh,” Seto began, “there was no need to come here. Today, we only deal with criminals. Nothing worthy of your valuable time –”

“'Criminals',” Atemu echoed with a thoughtful caress to his chin, “my favorite part of the week. This should be fun. Proceed.” Waving a hand, Atemu settled back in his chair and his priest hesitated, glancing briefly to the court around them. Every single person was looking to Seto with grim faces. They knew what Pharaoh Atemu's presence meant.

“My king,” Seto tried, “Siamun is expecting you in the Temple of –”

“Are you telling me what to do, priest?” Atemu snapped, and Seto fell silent at once. He looked taken aback and he bowed his head, jaw clenching. “I thought not,” Pharaoh Atemu continued, “now, fetch my vizier, would you? The old man is needed in the throne room.”

Without a word, Seto motioned to the nearest servant and sent him away with a nod. The servant scurried from the room, and Seto cleared his throat. The entire room was quiet and not a soul within it uttered a word. Every person was fearful of Atemu's wrath.

“Would my king like to hear an update from the lords –”

“Sentencing first,” Atemu interrupted, “isn't that what you were about to do?” He sent his priest a glare, and Seto only barely suppressed his flinch. Pharaoh Atemu ignored his weakness and waved a hand. The court carried out his order and the doors that the servants used on the far side of the room opened. A string of shackled prisoners filed in, led in by soldiers at the front and at the rear. They paused before him and the first, trembling mortal was shoved to the front. The man dropped into a low bow and cowered before him. Pharaoh Atemu looked to his head priest, and the man visibly grimaced. A servant came up to Priest Seto and handed him a new scroll. Unrolling it, he read aloud.

“Hassan –”

“I don't care who he is,” Atemu said and his priest fell silent once more, “what is the charge, how many witnesses.” He snapped his fingers, and Seto's lips thinned considerably. It was obvious to Atemu that his head priest was unhappy with him being there. It was not within his duties to hand out punishments to criminals. That's what his court was for. However, Atemu had long since stopped giving a single damn that he was disrupting what was supposed to be a fair trial. However, with a brief glance to Seto, Atemu swore his blatant disrespect would be dealt with as soon as the prisoners were sentenced. And Atemu was feeling particularly bloodthirsty at that moment.

“Thievery resulting in a death,” Priest Seto finally voiced, “crops attempted to be taken from a local farmer. When the farmer caught him in the act, a struggle ensued and Hassan put his scythe through the farmer. The farmer's wife –”

“Behead him,” Pharaoh Atemu waved a hand dismissively, “next.”

The room around him was silent as a tomb. The murderer began to whimper on the ground.

“I needed to feed my family – please! It was an accident! Have mercy!” The thief raised his head to plead in Seto's direction. Atemu watched as his High Priest's brow furrowed before looking away.

His priest was _soft._

“By his majesty, Pharaoh Atemu's decree, you have been sentenced –”

The large entrance doors opened then, effectively cutting off Priest Seto. With a severe frown, Atemu looked up to see what foolish idiot had dared to interrupt these very important proceedings.

“Who _dares_ –”

“Oh, am I interrupting?” came the soft, melodious voice and Atemu's eyes widened. His body went cold and he zeroed in on the voice with his heart lodged in his throat. A collective gasp left the room and Atemu numbly shoved off the throne and to his feet, disbelieving his ears. “I'm looking for Atemu.”

The short teen strolled into the room, an oblivious smile on his face. His violet eyes landed on Atemu and he came to a stop, his smile widening.

“Hi, Atemu!” Aahmes called in delight, and Atemu was silent. Around the room, all heads had turned to him, watching him for his reaction. Atemu raised a hand and swept it before him.

“Leave us,” he commanded and his court hastened to obey. All filed out of the room, emptying it completely. Soon enough, every noble, servant, guard, and prisoner had left and only Aahmes and Atemu remained. The doors closed ominously behind the last guard and only when they had shut completely, did Atemu dare move.

Abandoning the throne, Atemu flew down the steps and to Aahmes who rushed up to meet him halfway. They collided in a yearning embrace and the stiffness in Atemu's body left him at once. He lovingly pressed their cheeks together and a soft sound left his lips.

“Aahmes,” he whispered against the warm cheek of his beloved, “you've returned to me.”

“I've missed you, Atemu,” Aahmes responded. He burrowed his face into Atemu's neck, breathing him in.

“Where did you go?” Atemu demanded and his grip tightened on Aahmes. “Why did you leave me?”

“My mother summoned me home,” Aahmes whispered and sighed. “I couldn't fight it.”

“Your mother,” Atemu said and he moved away, looking down at Aahmes with confusion. “She summoned you?” he asked. “Why?”

“I had to be punished,” Aahmes said suddenly, “for sinking Atlantis. My mother and the rest of my family were rather unhappy about it. Apparently, I pissed off some Atlantean gods, so they held court to sentence me.”

“Sentence,” Atemu said and something in his chest grew cold with dread. He gulped the down the lump in his throat and ignored the sudden burning in the corner of his eyes. “Are you here to say goodbye?”

Blinking in surprise, Aahmes shook his head quickly. He said, “No, Atemu. I'm here to stay.”

Frowning, Atemu had to take a moment to process Aahmes's words. He could not believe what he was hearing.

“Stay?” he said breathlessly.

“Yes,” Aahmes nodded, “I'm here to stay.”

“But,” Atemu protested, “you're a god. You can't stay in my realm –”

“Oh, but see,” Aahmes explained and a sheepish smile crossed his lips. “I was supposed to be executed. Or something like that. My mom said a lot of things. But the point is, she didn't want me hurt, so...” With a shrug, Aahmes cocked his head to the side, bouncing in place with an odd movement of his feet. “I'm not a god anymore. Grandfather took my immortality. I've been banished.”

“Banished?” Atemu breathed, “From your realm?”

“Yes,” Aahmes nodded, “I can't return. I think they mean to kill me if I try.” Chuckling, Aahmes shrugged, though it was plain on his face that the thought upset him. The corners of his eyes were creased and his lips twitched downwards every so often. “And I can't use my powers like I used to. Makes me tired now. But at least they didn't take them all away.” With another shrug, Aahmes smiled. “But it doesn't matter,” he said, “because now I get to be with you. For the rest of our lives.”

“'The rest of our lives',” Atemu echoed, “am I dreaming?”

Shaking his head in denial, Aahmes threw his arms around Atemu once more. He sighed against Atemu's neck, and it was like a small whimper from a kitten in pain. And though Atemu was having trouble catching up, he embraced Aahmes. He understood what it meant for him. While they could be happy together, if Aahmes was banished, it meant he was cut off from his family and all that he had known. So while Pharaoh Atemu was relieved and thankful that they were together again, indefinitely, he knew Aahmes was in pain.

“It's alright,” Atemu said, rubbing Aahmes's back in comfort, “it's okay to be sad.” The grip around his torso tightened and Aahmes took a shuddering breath.

“I ca-can't visit my mom,” Aahmes whispered brokenly, “I-I c-can't see her at all. She's been forbidden from seeing me.”

“I know,” Atemu replied, pressing his lips to Aahmes's hair, “Aahmes, I'm here.”

Then it was like a dam had broken and Aahmes began to shake with his tears. He clung to Atemu like a lifeline and cried. It made Atemu's heart wrench with sympathy and he could only hold Aahmes, useless in helping his pain. But as Aahmes sobbed onto his shoulder, a realization came to Atemu. It hit him like a stone pillar crashing down on him. His gut clenched and he squeezed Aahmes tight. He had told Aahmes to destroy Atlantis. It was because of him that Aahmes was banished and unable to be with his family, stuck in his realm with a pathetic, evanescent life.

It was his fault.

He had damned Aahmes, the love of his life. Because of him, Aahmes would grow old and die a miserable, mortal death. He would be laid in a tomb unworthy of his being. A godly being amidst sewage because of Atemu. The guilt of the realization hit him hard and Atemu opened his mouth to beg forgiveness.

“But at least,” Aahmes whispered with a shuddering sigh, “I have you.”

Without uttering a single word, Atemu closed his mouth and laid a kiss against Aahmes's pale cheek.

“You'll always have me, little one,” Atemu promised.

“I know,” Aahmes replied, sighing, “thank you, Atemu.”

**Author's Note:**

> Aahmes = child of the moon
> 
> I sure hope y'all liked that! I may expand on this world at a much later date.
> 
> Follow me on twitter [@nanadanonini](https://twitter.com/nanadanonini)! I post writing updates, life tidbits, line excerpts, and more! It's also great to let y'all know if I'm delaying a chapter update! You can also interact with me. ♡ If you're a writer or just starting out, you can also feel free to ask me anything you'd like and I will try my very best to help you. 
> 
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